


To exorcise a ghost, you need to be a demon and cut it down by the balls

by Writing_in_SIN



Category: Gintama
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blood Sharing, Canon Compliant, Complicated Relationships, Demonic Powers, Episode 136, Episode Related, Exorcisms, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, M/M, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_in_SIN/pseuds/Writing_in_SIN
Summary: With a missing person report from the Yorozuya brats combined with Muramasha's sudden bout of bloodlust, Hijikata Toushirou grudgingly finds himself in a haunted apartment room straight right out of a crime scene.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 16
Kudos: 80





	To exorcise a ghost, you need to be a demon and cut it down by the balls

**Author's Note:**

> If you like, come scream at me on [Tumblr](https://writing-in-sin.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Writing_in_SIN)
> 
> _____
> 
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN~! 💙🦇💚
> 
> Here's my Halloween GinHiji fic based on Ep: 136 (the one that ended with a creepy cliffhanger in that haunted apartment)

* * *

**To exorcise a ghost, you need to be a demon and cut it down by the balls**

* * *

Toushirou stares at the innocuous apartment door and heaves a sigh, hand clutching the trembling Muramasha at his side.

Double checking to make sure that he got the right address, Toushirou swings the door opened and steps into the apartment with cautious steps. The air is condensed around him as he ventures deeper until Toushirou stands in the middle of the living room, the chill almost a tangible manifestation. His breaths puff out in whorls of icy white mist despite the fact that it's late summer or that all of the doors and windows are closed to keep out the night breeze. Clenching his teeth to stop them from chattering in the cold and locking his knees together to stop them from shaking, Toushirou then eyes the blood staining on almost every surface in the room with a scowl.

Shit, this looks like one of the crime scenes he's grown used to seeing in his line of work.

Lighting up a cigarette, he checks his notebook for the scarce details given to him by the Yorozuya brats about their missing permheaded leader. Usually he'd shift this kind of grunt work to a subordinate or to the local authorities within the jurisdiction but considering the ruckus the Yorozuya brats were causing when they barged into the barracks in search for him about the idiotic NEET, the Shinsengumi weren't given any choice lest the idiots make a bigger nuisance of themselves.

(Toushirou tries and fails to ignore the real reason why he accepted in the first place— concern for the kids and worry over the missing samurai)

Shaking his head to dispel any distracting thoughts, Toushirou shoves the notebook back into his pocket and unsheathes Muramasha from its scabbard. He watches as the blood within the room starts to writhe and contort until it gathers onto the ceiling of the room, balking as it forms into a wailing grotesque flesh-like mass.

The next thing Toushirou knows, the thing gives a mighty shriek and he's thrown backwards to crash against a wall. With a grunt of pain, he slides down into a crouch and growls up at the g-ghost.

Fuck, he hates evil spirits.

"Oi." Glancing down at Muramasha, he takes a stance and grips the sword with a white knuckled grip. "Just 'cause I was a medicine seller when I was younger, doesn't mean I can suddenly perform exorcisms."

The mass shrieks again before it lunges at him and despite the fear gripping him, Toushirou feels a feral grin stretching across his lips.

Dodging the thing, his nose wrinkles when he catches whiff of rotting corpses. Fuck, how many victims has this thing taken already?

Muramasha shivers slightly before a flash of images pass by in his mind's eye, showing past victims being enveloped by the wraith before their bodies would then be crushed and contorted to be eaten when time passes by too long.

He grimaces, disgusted and appalled at the echoes of screams; a high, discordant note saturated with pain.

"Let's just skip the whole Form, Truth, and Regret thing and get this over with." Toushirou rolls across the floor when the g-ghost swoops down again before pressing a thumb against the sharp edge of his sword and watches as the blood runs down the thin groove of the blade. "Fanfiction or not, we're not gonna suddenly do a crossover with a different anime."

Channeled by the pain and terror all churning within the room, throat raw with screams the victims couldn't make, Toushirou slashes at the writhing mass and smirks in grim satisfaction when four humans and a dog drop down to the floor while multiple orbs of light float up and away into the heavens— finally free from the curse of a vengeful ghost.

"Rest well," Toushirou whispers as he leans against the wall, sending a quiet prayer to the departed souls.

A low growl cuts his relief short, and Toushirou has to quickly jump away when a bokuto lodges itself at where his head used to be. A quick glance shows him familiar silver hair and a broad muscled back before the Yorozuya's head snap to him and Toushirou has to hold back a flinch when he's pinned by a pair of white, bloodshot eyes on a face that's distorted into a grotesque sneer.

Rage comes unbidden at the sight, unexpectedly despising the lack of dead fish eyes and lazy grin.

"Damn you," he spits out, readying Muramasha.

He _especially_ hates evil spirits that uses people as meat puppets. It's hella annoying.

Limbs contorting, Yorozuya growls and disappears from view before suddenly appearing inches away from his face. Yelping, his back hits the wall and chokes on a gasp as a large hand closes around his windpipe. Lights flicker and the radio screeches. Gritting his teeth, Toushirou glares at the apparition using Sakata's body and claws at the wrist holding him captive.

A high pitch laugh as Sakata's face comes closer before freezing in place and Toushirou smirks as the g-ghost slowly looks down—

"Gotcha, ya fucker."

— only to find Muramasha's blade impaling both Sakata and himself clean through their stomachs from the back, his hand keeping them in place against Sakata's spine. The apparition looks at him, aghast, before snapping its neck back as black smoke shoots out of the Yorozuya's mouth with a screech.

Toushirou pales, swallowing with a dry throat at the writhing black smoke as it manifests a pair of bulging eyes with a wail. Well, that's just _great._ Bad enough that the stupid Gorilla author ended the original work for this episode into an unexplained horror-esque cliffhanger. Now, they've got this cryptid potato of a fanfic author turning this story into a Supernatural ripoff case too.

Che, as long as he won't need the Colt to get rid of this g-ghost then he should be okay.

...right?

Shielding the Yorozuya in a protective hold, he's snapped out of his panicked thoughts by a hacking cough and Toushirou turns his attention to the permhead leaning against him as Sakata blinks with bleary red eyes before the bastard squints at him.

"...Oogushi-kun?"

Immediately, he flares up at the stupid nickname. "Who the hell is Oogushi-kun!?"

Relief floods him even as Toushirou tries to ignore it, glaring into familiar dead fish eyes of the Yorozuya before the other man shifts in place then glances down at the blade that's shishkebab-ing them with a disturbed frown.

"Care to tell me why we're impaled together, officer?" Yorozuya drawls out, brows furrowed as the perm gives him a judgemental stare. "Because Gin-san ain't into this kind of play, y'know?"

"Get your perm out of the gutter, dumbass," he snaps back, jerking his head to where the wailing g-ghost is contorting above them. "Muramasha's keepin' us safe from your g-ghost friend."

"Like hell that t-thing can be anyone's _friend_ , oi." White as a sheet, the other samurai darts a quick panicked glance at the spirit before his attention is caught by the groaning bodies lying on the floor. "Are they...?"

"They're alright— unconscious but alright," he reassures, tone gentling the slightest bit to ease the glimmer of worry in Sakata's eyes. While Toushirou may not know those that'd been caught in this mess alongside Sakata (outside of a passing knowledge of the Hasegawa couple, that is), he knows Sakata well enough that he's vicious as hell of those under his protection. "Probably won't remember a thing once they wake up."

"Good." A sigh of relief, quiet enough that if it weren't for their close proximity, Toushirou knows he woulda missed it. Sakata then points to Muramasha with a petulant scowl. "Still, the hell _is_ this anyway? It's not gonna turn me into an otaku, right?"

Toushirou rolls his eyes with a scoff. "You're already a NEET—"

"I'm self-employed, ya asshole!"

"— no way it can turn you any worse than you already are," he states, ignoring Sakata's outbursts with a sort of practiced ease from their constant bickering. With a sigh, Toushirou nods at Muramasha and looks on in morbid fascination at how his blood and Sakata's mix together within the groove— the only sign that they're stabbed in the first place despite the lack of pain or fatal wound. "And as to the why...well, blood is considered a protector and can an act as protection against evil spirits. Bloodletting's our safest bet."

Sakata lets out a snort, brow raised. "A bit dramatic, don't ya think?"

"Got a better idea, Yorozuya?" he snaps with a scowl, a vein pulsing at his temple.

"As a matter of fact..." The usual nonchalance disappears as red eyes darken with intent. "I certainly _do,_ Hijikata-kun."

Without warning, Sakata smashes their mouths together in a brutal kiss that's more teeth than anything else. Almost immediately, Toushirou returns it with equal brutality and dark passion, sharp canines catching each other's lips until there's more blood than saliva in their mouths.

Shit, here they go again.

It's not their first kiss and Toushirou suspects it ain't gonna be their last either. Honestly, he's still not sure how or why they'd ended up exchanging kisses in between their usually bickering. True, their first kiss had been as a means to shut the other up mid screaming match but it still doesn't explain _why_ it happened in the first place.

Or why they never stopped either.

The only thing Toushirou _does_ know as he twines his arms around Yorozuya's neck and lets the perm hug him close by the waist until their fronts are flushed together, is that _this_ always feels right.

There's something about Sakata Gintoki that's as natural as breathing for him, and hell if he knows why.

But...he doesn't dislike it.

Nonetheless, they've still got more pressing matters even as Muramasha pulses in power and Toushirou feels his instincts darkening with bloodlust. So with an iron resolve borne from years of discipline, Toushirou breaks the kiss with a shuddering gasp.

"Focus," he murmurs against bloodstained lips, palm cradling the side of Sakata's face before grimacing at the odd sensation of his canines slowly sharpening into fangs because of Muramasha's influence. "Or we really _will_ turn into a pair of macabre shut-ins."

Foreheads pressed together, Sakata takes a deep breath and leans back slightly as his eyes flutter opened to reveal the white of his eyes has turned pitch black. The perm makes a startled sound, probably surprised at the sudden appearance of fangs and black sclera that Toushirou's no doubt sporting at the moment. With a hum, Sakata darts his tongue out to tentatively curl around his own pair of fangs before letting out a sigh.

"This thing really is a demon sword, huh?" Sakata comments idly, poking at Muramasha with a finger.

Toushirou shrugs. "Acts more like a conductor, actually."

"Conductor?"

"Like a lightning rod, I guess," Toushirou tries his best to explain, cautiously eyeing the shadowy ball writhing and wailing at them. It's as if the thing's waiting for the right moment to strike. "Since it seems like my demon can play well with yours."

Sakata stills in his arms, and Toushirou carefully doesn't look at the other samurai to give the man some semblance of privacy.

Although his suspicions won't be confirmed until episode 246, his reputation as the Mind of the Shinsengumi isn't just for show. It's literally his job to know every detail about the Joui and the infamous Shiroyasha isn't an exception to that. Toushirou knows every rumour and then some about the alleged strongest of the Four Heavenly Kings— knows the blood and carnage staining the demon that's sharing space with him until they're literally breathing the same air.

Knows, and is unafraid.

Hell, why would he? He's a demon himself and for him, Sakata Gintoki will always be just that— _Sakata Gintoki._

Human. Demon. Permheaded moronic sugarfreak of a dumbass.

Toushirou thinks his sentiments might've been broadcasted via Muramasha somehow because Sakata relaxes against him with a chuckle. "If it's a rod you're lookin' for—"

"Finish that and I'll cut off your dick, Yorozuya," he snarls out, turning red at the idiot's usual perverted sense of humour.

Sakata actually has the gall to roll his eyes at him before kissing Toushirou's cheek then, glances at the g-ghost with a scowl. "So, what now?"

"We cut it down, of course."

Gripping the hilt of his sword, Toushirou gives it a sharp tug and watches as it harmlessly phases through him and Sakata— the only evidence that it even impaled them at all is the mixed blood within the groove.

They then stand together side by side, the air fraught with tension and something demonic between them.

"Cut it off by the balls, huh?" Sakata squares his shoulders and looks up at the suddenly cowering shadow ball with a bloodthirsty grin. "I like the sound of that."

Well, that's one way of putting it.

"Make sure to thank your brats once you get home, Yorozuya." Jerking a thumb to the g-ghost, he sends a scolding glance to the other samurai. "They were being annoying because you got your lazy ass handed to you by this kind of fucker."

For some reason, that makes Sakata laugh as the bastard gives him what suspiciously looks like a fond grin. "You're such a tsundere."

"Who're ya callin' a tsundere, ah!?" he bites out, scowling and feels his ears flushing.

Moonlight suddenly shines into the apartment from the sliding doors, bathing the gloomy space with soft silver light and something twists in his chest when Toushirou catches glimpse of how the light blends easily around Sakata not unlike a halo— majestic and unyielding.

The sight of it makes Toushirou wonder at times of why such a light wants anything to do with him; a man as humble as the soil he used to toil in his childhood.

"Shall we?" Sakata prompts, bokuto at ready and a challenge in his expression.

...well, Toushirou supposed it doesn't matter. Insignificant as he may be in the grand schemes of things, the years have taught him not to question one's fortune and be grateful for what's given while it lasts, no matter how fleeting.

"Let's," he answers in kind with a fanged grin, gripping his sword.

Sensing danger, the ghost tries to claw against the apartment room's walls and floors, making wheezing sounds as if pleading to be let out yet denied of such as he uses Muramasha to manipulate the blood of its victims within the room and prevents its escape. A hell of an irony, he'd say.

And there's nothing now, nothing to help it escape.

The atmosphere of the room is dense, heavy, and with identical grins on their faces, both him and Sakata lunge at the ghost as their night ends with the sounds of splattering blood and dying shrieks.

**After all, what's a ghost against two pissed off demons?**


End file.
